The absolute silence that followed Valerius’s devastating howl was heavier than the crushing depths of the ocean.
Thirty thousand hardened Lycan warriors, men and women who had butchered deep-sea horrors without flinching, stood completely motionless on the Shattered Shores. The storm had passed, the toxic clouds were gone, but the morning sun illuminating the smoking crater offered no warmth. Their Empress, the blazing silver light of the Unified Realms, lay utterly still in the arms of their King.
"Do it again," Valerius growled, his voice a low, terrifying vibration that shook the mud beneath them. He glared down at Torin, the head northern healer. "Push your magic into her. Fix the tether."
Torin, a veteran of countless brutal wars, visibly trembled. "My King, I cannot. Her physic
